


Watch Over Me

by onceuponanevilangel



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 06:26:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4866500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponanevilangel/pseuds/onceuponanevilangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Angie took care of Peggy and one time Peggy returned the favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch Over Me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not entirely sure how I feel about the ending to this one, but I've been working on it for a while and I'm pretty happy with it. Any feedback is very much appreciated!

1.

Howard’s mansion had six different bedrooms and Angie had made it a point during her first week living there to sleep in every single one of them at least once. Each was huge and well-furnished with a massive bed and enough pillows and blankets for Angie to build a fort out of. One of them even had a fire place. There was only one problem.

Not a single one of those bedrooms was on the first floor.

“Angie, I promise you I’m perfectly capable of walking up one flight of stairs,” Peggy insisted. She was lying on the overstuffed sofa in what had unofficially become her office at some point with her head on a pile of cushions against the armrest and her foot in a cast at the other end.

“The doctor said no bearing weight for at least a week,” Angie countered.

“I have crutches.”

“And you’ll still have them next week. Until then you’re in here.”

“But I…”

“Nope. No buts.” Angie said, crossing her arms and shooting Peggy a look that warned that she wasn’t going to put up with anything. “I know this isn’t really the best situation, but this is the comfiest couch in the house. I’m going to run upstairs and get you some pillows and blankets, okay?”

Peggy sighed loudly, completely aware that she was being more than a little petulant, but she sank down against the cushions nonetheless.

“Good. Now stay there.”

Peggy rolled her eyes as Angie walked out of the room.

There was a part of her that was tempted to get up and go upstairs anyway just to prove that she could. It was childish and pointless, sure, but if it were anyone else telling her to stay put for a week she probably would have done it. But something told her Angie wasn’t going to have any of that, so Peggy just groaned and resigned herself to being stuck on the sofa.

Angie returned a few minutes later, struggling a little under the weight of two pillows, a somewhat worn-out quilt that Peggy had used during the war, and the purple duvet from their bed.

“I’m back, Pegs. How’s the ankle doing?”

“Still broken.”

“Funny,” Angie said. She dropped her findings on the floor and gestured for Peggy to lift her head so she could swap the cushions for a pair of pillows. “Do you want the blankets now or are you okay?”

“The quilt might be nice actually,” Peggy said quietly.

Angie didn’t say anything. She just grabbed the quilt, snapped it in the air, and draped it gently over Peggy’s body.

“Thanks,” Peggy said. “And there’s one more thing I’d like to ask you.”

“Yeah?” Angie asked.

“Well you see, the study gets rather cold at night and seeing as how I can’t really get up to get more blankets, I was wondering if you would maybe—“

“Are you asking me to spend the night down here with you?” Angie asked. “Because if you are, then I think that could be arranged if you move over.”

A pink flush rose in Peggy’s cheeks and she shifted over a little bit to make room on the sofa for Angie. Angie climbed under the blanket, being extra careful not to jar Peggy’s broken ankle as she did so.

“How’s this?” she asked.

“Perfect,” Peggy replied.

“Good.” Angie pressed her lips lightly against the corner of Peggy’s mouth. “Now do us both a favor and try to get some rest.”

 

2.

Peggy didn’t like the cold.

Angie was pretty used to it. Growing up in a tiny apartment with seven other people usually meant that there were bigger priorities than paying for heat, so Angie made due. She learned pretty quickly though that Peggy hated the cold.

Of course Peggy didn’t _say_ anything, but Angie had always good at picking up on people’s body language and she couldn’t help but notice that Peggy always seemed to get frustrated in the cold weather. Her movements were a bit slower than normal and whenever she had to reach for anything, Angie could see a mostly-concealed wince cross her face.

She let it slide, though. If Peggy was going to ignore her pain for the sake of—well Angie wasn’t actually sure why Peggy would do it, but she probably had her reasons.

That was the plan, at least, but in Angie’s experience very few things in her life ever went according to plan.

It was a particularly chilly December afternoon and Angie standing on her toes on a chair in the library, but she was still just the slightest bit too short to reach the book she wanted. Curse Howard and his ridiculously tall shelves.

“Hey, Peg? You want to help me reach this book?”

Peggy was curled up an armchair next to the crackling fireplace with a book of her own open on her lap, but at Angie’s call, she stood up slowly and stretched like a cat before padding over to Angie.

“What do you need, darling?”

Angie hopped off the chair and pointed up at the shelf. “The first Nancy Drew please.”

Peggy stepped up on the chair and started to reach for the book, but when she stretched her right arm out, she hissed in pain and clapped her other hand over her shoulder.

“Oh my God, Peggy, are you okay?” Angie asked.

“Fine, fine,” Peggy said. “I’m fine.” She grabbed the book with her left hand and passed it to Angie before stepping off the chair.

“You don’t seem very fine. What’s wrong?” Angie asked. She set her book on the shelf next to her and pressed her fingers lightly against Peggy’s shoulder, tracing the outlines of the small scars she knew marred Peggy’s skin. “Is something wrong with your scars?”

“Nothing’s wrong with them,” Peggy said. “They just sometimes get sore when it’s cold outside. Something about the blood flow to the scar tissue being slower. But it’s all right, I can handle it.”

“That doesn’t mean you should,” Angie replied. “Go sit down.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me. Go sit down. I’ll be right back.”

Before Peggy could protest, Angie hurried out of the room and Peggy sat back down in the armchair. After a few minutes, she heard Angie come racing back into the room, this time with a hot water bottle in her hand.

“I should have asked first, but do you mind if I try to help?” Angie asked.

“Be my guest,” Peggy replied.

Angie carefully set the water bottle on Peggy’s shoulder. The heat was a bit of a shock at first, but Peggy quickly found herself relaxing into it and she let her eyes slip closed as she sighed contentedly.

“That nice?” Angie asked.

“You have no idea,” Peggy said.

Angie smiled and moved her hands to start gently rubbing at Peggy’s shoulders. She was especially careful around the circular scars, but when Peggy started to lean back into her touch, she used a bit more pressure.

“Mmm. That’s much better. Thank you, darling,” Peggy murmured.

“Whatever you need, Peg.” Angie leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against Peggy’s shoulder. She turned her head and kissed Peggy’s cheek for good measure. “I love you, English.”

“I love you too,” Peggy replied. She turned her head and caught Angie’s lips with her own. Her next words were whispered so softly that Angie could barely make them out. “With all my heart.”

 

3.

Peggy was home before Angie.

That in and of itself was a pretty rare occurrence, but it wasn’t the strangest thing.

The strangest thing was that Peggy was home first, but she wasn’t waiting for Angie in the living room or working in her study or anywhere else that Angie would normally expect her to be.

Instead, Angie found Peggy in the kitchen, slumped in a chair with her forehead pressed against the wooden tabletop. She was snoring and there was a mug of what Angie was pretty sure was cold tea next to her. Angie took the image in for a moment before she leaned down and gently nudged Peggy’s shoulder.

“Peg, honey, you okay?”

Peggy’s head shot up and she blinked blearily at Angie. Peggy’s eyes were glassy and the tip of her nose was red. Her face was pale save for flush on her cheeks and her normally-perfect curls were frizzy and sticking to the sides of her face.

“Geez, English, you look like you got hit by a truck.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “Very funny.” Her voice sounded hoarse and congested and her words were almost slurred.

“What happened?” Angie asked.

“I got sent home early,” Peggy admitted. “Daniel told me I was too ill to work and if I didn’t leave he was going to have Thompson drive me.”

“Good on him,” Angie said. She pulled up another chair and sat down next to Peggy, her hand moving absently to rub small circles on the area between Peggy’s shoulder blades. “When did this happen, though? I heard you sniffling a little bit this morning, but you didn’t look near as bad as you do now.”

“I don’t know. It just kept getting worse all morning and now I just feel disgusting.” As if to punctuate this point, Peggy leaned her elbows on the table in front of her and dropped her head into her hands. She cleared her throat, sniffled, and groaned.

There was a part of Angie that wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the whole situation. The great Peggy Carter laid low by the common cold. She didn’t laugh though. Peggy’s pride was a delicate thing under the best of circumstances and Angie was pretty sure teasing—even the playful kind--wouldn’t be the best approach right now.

“I hate this,” Peggy grumbled. “It’s been so long I almost forgot how bloody horrible this feels.”

“I know, honey,” Angie said, her hand still moving lightly along Peggy’s back. “Being sick’s the worst. Why don’t you go take a nice hot bath to clear out your sinuses a little bit and then get in bed and I’ll bring you up some tea in a little while.”

“Mmm. You’re too good to me, darling,” Peggy mumbled. She sat up and leaned against Angie’s shoulder.

“Love you too, English,” Angie replied before pressing a soft kiss to Peggy’s overheated forehead.

Angie stood up and grabbed the cold mug of tea off the table and set it in the sink. “Now go upstairs and I’ll be up soon.”

Peggy cleared her throat and groaned, but stood up. She swayed on her feet for a second, but once she found her balance, she shuffled out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Angie heard a stifled sneeze and a muttered curse and she couldn’t help but smile just the tiniest bit as she got up to put the kettle on.

When Angie peeked into the bedroom a half hour later, Peggy was already asleep, snoring under a mound of blankets. Angie eased the door open and set a fresh mug of tea on the nightstand. She leaned down to kiss Peggy’s forehead again and tiptoed out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

 

4.

The bed was cold.

When Angie rolled over, she expected to feel Peggy’s warm body against her own, but she was met only with empty sheets.

Angie rolled back over and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was two in the morning and Peggy wasn’t in bed. From the temperature of the sheets, she probably hadn’t been there all night. She had probably fallen asleep at her desk again. It wouldn’t be the first time, but there was a part of Angie that always hoped it would be the last. Either way, she knew Peggy hated waking up on her desk. The best thing to do was just go get her.

Angie groaned as she rolled out of bed, dragging the quilt with her and wrapping it around her shoulders as she walked.

She padded downstairs and sure enough, the light was still on in Peggy’s study. Angie carefully pushed the door open and leaned in the doorway for a moment, just taking in the image before her.

Peggy was—as expected—asleep on her desk with her cheek pressed against a pile of papers and her pen still gripped loosely in her hand. She was snoring quietly and her round reading glasses were askew on her face.

Angie stepped over to the desk and nudged Peggy’s shoulder. Peggy blinked a few times before she sat up and looked around.

“Huh? Angie?”

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Angie said.

“What time is it?” Peggy asked. Her voice was a little hoarse and she pushed her glasses up her nose.

“Two A.M.,” Angie replied. “You fell asleep again.”

“I’m sorry, I just got caught up in work.” Peggy shuffled the stack of papers in front of her. “I don’t have very much left. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

Angie’s hands fell to her hips and she shot Peggy her best no-nonsense look. “That’s what you said at ten when I went up to bed. Come on.”

“Angie, I really do have to finish looking over these budget papers. Daniel wanted me to check them for him and I need to finish them by tomorrow.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“It’s positively _riveting,_ ” Peggy replied. She picked up her pen and started to read through her paperwork again, but she had to pause to cover a yawn.

“Come to bed,” Angie said. She reached across the desk and in one fluid motion, she snatched the pen out of Peggy's hand and slipped the glasses off her face. “You’re exhausted. What good is it going to do if you just fall asleep doing it and you have to do it all over again tomorrow?”

“I can stay awake,” Peggy insisted. “I just need a few more minutes and I—“ she was cut off by another yawn.

“Try that again without the yawn and maybe we’ll talk,” Angie said. She grabbed the stack of papers and set it on the corner of the desk, just out of Peggy’s reach.

“ _Angie_ ,” Peggy whined—actually whined—as she tried in vain to reach for the papers.

“Nope. Bed time. The papers will still be here in the morning. Get up.”

Peggy grumbled something unintelligible under her breath, but she stood up and stretched before following Angie out of the study.

Once they got upstairs, Peggy quickly changed out of her clothes, slipped on her nightgown, and flopped down in bed. Angie bit her lip to keep from laughing as she slid into the bed next to Peggy. Angie pulled the blankets up over both of them and rolled over to wrap her arms around Peggy.

“Good night, English. Sweet dreams.”

Peggy’s only response was a soft snore.

 

5.

Angie had always liked thunderstorms. She wasn’t exactly sure why, but she could remember being little and standing at the window just watching the lightning flash and the rain pound the street. Even as she got older she liked listening to the sounds of the storm.

That’s exactly on she was doing on one particular August night. She and Peggy had gone to bed early and Peggy was already asleep, curled up against Angie’s side as Angie leaned against the headboard with a book open on her lap and her hand absently running through Peggy’s hair.

It had been raining for the better part of the day and Angie could hear it starting to pick up outside. There was a sudden flash of lightning that lit up the room. Angie smiled to herself and pulled the blankets up a little farther on her lap.

There was a clap of thunder and Angie felt Peggy shift next to her.

For a long moment, there was just the sound of the rain, but then there was another flash. Angie counted the seconds before the next thunderclap. Four seconds. Another boom and Peggy shifted again, a little bit more this time and Angie could hear her suck in a breath.

“You okay, Peg?” Angie asked. She got no response, so she just turned back to her book.

Another clap of thunder, another flinch and Peggy’s hands tightened around the blankets so much that her knuckles turned white.  Angie was pretty sure she could even hear a whimper.

This time Angie set her book on the nightstand and gently shook Peggy’s shoulder.

“Peggy, honey, wake up.”

Peggy jolted awake and shot upright so fast that Angie barely had time to react before the back of Peggy’s hand smacked across her cheek. Angie reeled back with a gasp. Peggy’s eyes were wide and her chest was heaving and it took a long moment before she finally looked at Angie. When she did, all Angie could see in her eyes was fear.

“Oh God, Angie,” Peggy whispered.  She clapped her hand against her mouth and her eyes filled up with tears. “Angie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you, I just--”

“It’s okay,” Angie said. Her cheek still stung, but she dropped her hand and shifted closer to Peggy. She opened her arms and after a long pause, Peggy leaned into the embrace.

“Nightmare?” Angie asked.

“I suppose you could call it that,” Peggy replied.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Okay.”

There was another flash of lightning and Peggy flinched again. A clap of thunder sounded and her grip around Angie tightened just the slightest bit.

“Don’t like the storm?” Angie asked. One of her hands moved to Peggy’s head and started running through her hair.

“I’m not really a fan,” Peggy said. She sounded so small and it almost broke Angie’s heart.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Probably not, but this is nice.” Peggy’s arms were strong around Angie’s waist and Angie kissed the top of her head.

“I’ll be here as long as you need me, Peg,” Angie murmured.

“I love you,” Peggy whispered as another flash of lightning lit up the room.

“I love you too, English.”

The storm passed quickly and within an hour, there was nothing but the sound of the rain. Angie had started reading again and she looked down when she felt Peggy’s grip around her waist loosen. Peggy was fast asleep, her face peaceful this time.

Angie set down her book and turned off the light before snuggling under the blankets and wrapping her arms around Peggy. A few more minutes and she was asleep too.

 

 +1

It was almost nine o’clock on a Friday night and Angie hadn’t moved for an hour. She was sitting on a chair that she had dragged into the front hall from the dining room and her eyes were fixed firmly on the phone. She had bitten her fingernails down to stubs and her leg was bouncing up and down so fast that it looked like it was vibrating.

“Anything yet?” Peggy asked as she peeked into the room and leaned in the doorway.

“Nope, but there’s still ten minutes before nine,” Angie replied, still keeping her eyes fixed on the phone.

“What happens if they don’t call?”

“They will,” Angie insisted. “The producer said he’d call between eight and nine tonight and he will.” Angie stopped biting what remained of her nails and switched to tapping her fingers on the tabletop.

Peggy was about to say something else, but she was interrupted by the shrill ringing of the phone. Angie grabbed it off the base and pressed it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“What are they saying?” Peggy whispered. She was silenced by a wave of Angie’s hand.

“Yes, this is her,” Angie said to whoever was on the phone. Peggy watched as the expression on her face suddenly fell. “Yeah, I understand. Mmhm. Thanks anyway.”

Angie slammed the phone back on the receiver with more force than was entirely necessary and sank back in her chair.

“I didn’t get the part,” Angie said. Her voice was surprisingly level and her expression neutral, but if there was one thing Peggy had learned since moving in with Angie, it was that this was just the calm before the storm.

“Oh darling, I’m sorry,” Peggy said. She moved behind the chair and wrapped an arm around Angie’s shoulders. “They didn’t deserve you anyway. Something bigger and better will come along and—“

“I didn’t get the part,” Angie repeated. There was a slight shake in her voice this time and when she looked up at Peggy, her blue eyes were filled with tears and her lower lip was trembling. “That was the eighth audition this month and I still didn’t get it.”

That was all it took to push the tears over the edge and suddenly she was crying.

Peggy knelt down next to Angie—an uncomfortable position on the stone floor of the hall—and placed one hand under Angie’s chin so that she could meet her eyes.

“Angie, listen to me. You are an amazing actress and if those bloody producers can’t see it then they’re absolute fools.”

“I know, it’s just…I thought I nailed this one and then they turned me down and I don’t know what else to do and I’m sorry and I don’t want to cry about this, but I am and I’m sorry.”

“No,” Peggy said sternly. “Don’t you dare apologize for being upset. That’s just going to make you feel worse.”

Angie nodded and sniffled before swiping her sleeve across her cheek to wipe away some of the tears.

“Do you want me to go?” Peggy asked. Experience had taught her that sometimes when Angie got emotional, the best thing to do was let her calm down, but this time Angie shook her head.

“I’m all right, Peg,” she said. “I’ll be fine.” The shake in her voice was still there, though and Peggy knew that assertion wasn’t true.

Peggy stood up with a little effort and dropped her hands to her hips with a small sigh. “Well I don’t know about you, but I’d say I’m rather in the mood for some mores tonight. Care to join me?”

Peggy reached out one hand and Angie took it and stood up, her lips twitching upward with just the slightest hint of a smile.

“That sounds perfect,” she replied.

“Then why don’t you go set up the library and I’ll start the fire and gather everything.”

“Okay.” Angie sniffed again and wiped away a few stray tears before turning and hurrying towards the library.

An hour later, Angie and Peggy were sitting on a pile of pillows and blankets in front of the fireplace in the library. It was the largest one in the house and the flickering glow made the room feel about ten times cozier. There were plates and skewers in front of them with the sticky remnants of marshmallows and chocolate and there were graham cracker crumbs scattered across the hardwood floor.

“This is nice,” Angie said, leaning her head on Peggy shoulder.

Peggy hummed softly in agreement and shifted to wrap her arms around Angie. “Feel better now?” she asked.

“Much,” Angie replied. “Thanks.”

“Any time.”

Angie nuzzled into Peggy’s shoulder. “You’re the best, Peg.”

Peggy smiled. “So I’ve been told.”

“I mean it.” Angie’s voice was slow and sleepy. “I really love you. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do, darling,” Peggy replied. “And I love you too.” She kissed the top of Angie’s head. “With all my heart.”

“Shut up, English,” Angie teased. “Don’t get all sappy on me now.”

Peggy chuckled and Angie moved her head just enough for their lips to meet. Peggy’s lips still tasted like chocolate and they were sticky with marshmallow, but Angie wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You want to go up to bed?” Peggy asked as Angie suddenly laid her head in Peggy’s lap and stretched out over the pile of blankets.

“Nope. I’m comfortable here.”

Peggy ran her fingers through Angie’s hair. “All right, we’ll stay here then.

“Mmhm.”

Angie snuggled deeper into Peggy’s lap and pulled one of the blankets over her legs. Peggy could still see the faint outlines of dried tear tracks on Angie’s cheeks, but she was smiling. There was a tiny bit of marshmallow stuck to the corner of her mouth and Peggy leaned down to kiss it away. Angie giggled and pushed her away.

“Stop it. That tickles,” Angie whined.

“Good.”

“I take it back. I hate you.”

“Sure you do.”

“I mean it,” Angie said.

“Mmm. And what can I do to make it up to you?” Peggy murmured.

Angie patted the blanket pile next to her. “Lay with me.”

Peggy did as she was told and shifted so that she could lay down next to Angie. She let out an exaggerated groan and wrapped her arms around Angie’s abdomen, pulling her closer.

“Forgive me yet?” Peggy asked.

“I guess,” Angie said around a yawn.

“Good.”

The fire flickered in the grate and the blanket pile was surprisingly comfortable. It only took Angie a few minutes to fall asleep and Peggy wasn’t long behind her.


End file.
